Good Ideas and Dancing Blankets
by Stormy1x2
Summary: Raph and Mikey mild slash, written for turtlest 100 drabble competition as well as LJ's fanfic100 challenge. Short, fluffy, see inside for additional details. Raph sorta tends to an ill Mikey.


**Title:** Good Ideas and Dancing Blankets

**Author: **Stormy1x2 (travelingstorm)

**Rating:** PG-13 for Raph's mouth

**Warning: ** Language, enough sap to drown a shortstack.

**Pairings: **Raph/Mikey

**Word Count (fic portion): **596

**Notes: **Written for the turtlecest 100 contest and as part of LJ's fanfic100 themes, prompt 23:** lovers**

---

"Mikey, you little shit! Get _back_ here!"

"No way! The blankets are dancing. That's just not right!"

Raphael growled in frustration as his agile young lover managed to escape him again. Reaching up, he massaged the bridge between his eyes. "Damn it!"

Donatello poked his head out of the infirmary. "Did you catch him yet?"

"No," Raph growled. "How the hell is he doing this? His temp's over a hundred, but he ain't slowed down a bit!"

"Mikey never did adhere to conventional rules," Donnie said mildly, shrugging. "Now, go get him. He needs to lie down. Where's Leo?"

"_I'll_ get him," Raphael snarled, bristling like a cat at the thought of Leonardo being called in to do something Raph was supposed to. Fuck, this was why he'd wanted to avoid _this_. This, whatever it was – '_a relationship_', his mind cheerfully reminded him, sounding suspiciously like the very turtle he was trying to corral - that made him have to to do stupid things, like cuddle on the couch, ('_Movies require snuggles,_' Mikey told him defiantly) or remember dates on a calender that had some sorta meaning he never remembered ('_Geez, you forgot the day we first went with Donnie to the dump as a couple?_'). And now, _he_ was the one that had to hunt down a feverish, and likely delusional little maniac of a toad-brother, because _he'd _had a moment of stupidity that made him agree when he and Mikey had decided to change their relationship from siblings to its current standing. _Why, exactly, did I think this would be a good thing?_

He followed the disjointed sounds of the younger male's babbling, and found him in front of his bed, staring at the upper bunk like it was the greatest obstacle in the world. "Mikey?"

"It's too high," Mikey whined fitfully, rubbing his arm in agitation. "The sky will fall down, and that ain't cool, bro." His eyes were glazed over with fever, bright but distant.

Raph sighed and reluctantly reached out, wrapping an arm around his brother's shoulders. "C'mon, Mikey. Bedtime. Donnie has some happy juice to give ya."

Surprisingly enough, Mikey came along quietly, apparently having burned out most of his energy in his initial escape from the infirmary. Raph steadily steered him along, and if his hand lightly squeezed and rubbed soothingly at Mikey's shoulder, well, no one was around to see it.

Just before they reached the open door of the infirmary, Mikey stopped and looked up at Raphael, a happy and dazed grin on his face. "I really love you," he declared, matter-of-factly. Raph blinked – and then swore as Mikey then passed out directly into his arms. Hearing his curses, Donatello hurried over and helped him move their youngest sibling to the cot. Before rummaging through the cupboards for the cold and flu stuff April had sent over.

It was stupid to keep a bedside vigil. Mikey was sick with a cold, not dying from injury. Still, when he tried to leave, something nagged at his conscience and wouldn't let up until he'd come back in, dragging Donnie's computer chair over to the cot. Raph watched as Mikey frowned in his sleep, the aftertaste of medicine obviously not to his liking, and he reached out, stroking lightly along his arm, his mouth smirking but eyes gentle when Mikey smiled and murmured in his sleep.

He _had _asked why, hadn't he?

" _I really love you."_

Oh, yeah - that was why. Raph smiled and settled in to watch his younger partner. Later, he'd show him some _real _dancing blankets.

---

**End Notes:**

I had a HELL of a time trimming this down to 500 words. At the 508 mark, I was whimpering pathetically. As a result, it sounds a bit choppier then my usual stuff. I may have to rewrite this for reposting later.


End file.
